


Something Beautiful, Something New

by 17craic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, don't hate me for this please, there are no sexy times but there are naughty times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 10:45:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/17craic/pseuds/17craic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry kisses Zayn. It's all downhill from there.</p>
<p>This is the first ever 1d related thing I wrote. <br/>It's actually all one thing but it's so long I had to post it as two parts.<br/>It's not amazing but I still like the plot so yeah hope someone out there enjoys it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this ages ago so there are a whole bunch of inaccuracies. I went through and edited a whole bunch of them but couldn't really be fucked sorting the entire thing out so hit me up if you notice something that makes no sense. Enjoy

It was three in the morning when Harry and Zayn stumbled out of the elevator into the corridor where their hotel rooms were. The plush crimson carpet stretched out in front of them, and the cream walls were warmly lit by glowing crystal chandeliers, but it still looked the same as every other five-star hotel in the world. The two boys wove down the hallway, loudly shushing each other and giggling. The had just got back from another big night out, and were both so drunk they couldn’t even remember what country they were in, let alone what city. Somewhere in Europe, possibly?  
They reached Zayn’s room and Zayn had to hang onto the doorframe while he tried to get his key card to work. He finally managed to unlock it, after saying, “Harry, it won’t fit! … Ooh, that’s what she said!” which caused Harry to bend over double with laughter. The boys didn’t notice that they were making enough noise to wake up their whole floor.  
As Zayn pushed his door open and searched for the light switch, Harry stood silhouetted in the doorway.  
“Zaaayynn? Can I sleep in here tonight? I don’t like sleeping by myself.”  
“Sure, Harry. You can stay in my bed any time you want. You know that.”

Zayn went into the bathroom in search of some water. When he came back, Harry was starfished on the floor, singing Kings Of Leon vaguely out of tune.  
“What are you doing down there?” Zayn asked, pulling Harry up by the armpits.  
“I fell over!” Harry giggled.  
The two of them tripped over their shoes, shirts and trousers as they took them off, then collapsed on the bed, facing each other. For a moment, they studied each other’s faces, then Harry, who was a rambling drunk, started on a thread of thought.  
“Zayn, do you know what? People think I’m sexy, but no-one thinks I’m cute. I want to be cute though. Why don’t people think I’m cute?”  
“Maybe the fact that you get off with so many people means you’re nowhere near innocent enough for anyone to think you’re cute.”  
“Huh… Do you think I’m cute Zayn?”  
“Sure, Haz.”  
“Hey! I’m serious. This is a really important question. Am I cute to you?” Harry asked intensely.  
Looking into Harry’s eyes, Zayn spoke honestly when he answered, “Yes, I think you’re very cute. Cute and sweet and all of those nice things.”  
Harry smiled sleepily. “Hey, you know what? I’m going to prove to you how cute I am, ok? I’ll prove it.”  
“You don’t need to prove anything to me, Haz”  
“But I want to!”  
Too tired and drunk to argue, Zayn said “Ok, ok. Go on then.”  
Before he realised what was happening, Harry had pressed his lips to Zayn’s. For a few seconds, Harry kissed him gently and sweetly, then pulled away, smirking.  
“That was cute wasn’t it?” Harry asked cheekily.  
“Very cute. Can we go to sleep now?” Zayn replied.  
“Yep.” Said Harry and wrapped is arms around Zayn’s bare waist, entwining their legs and resting his head on Zayn’s collarbone. Moments later, both were fast asleep.

The next morning, Harry woke up with a slight headache and a dry feeling in his throat. He was still held in Zayn’s protective arms, their skin warm and smooth against each other. Harry knew he shouldn’t stay here, loving the feeling of cuddling Zayn. He shouldn’t have those thoughts - last night, he could blame on the alcohol, but he’d definitely sobered up now.  
But he just couldn’t bring himself to leave. Instead, he traced the tattoo under Zayn’s collarbone. The curling, foreign script was just another thing about Zayn that fascinated him. Those beautiful, mysterious eyes. The taste of nicotine on his soft lips. The pain in his voice when he sang from his heart. In fact, Harry couldn’t think of a single thing about Zayn that he didn’t like, except that Zayn was straight.  
Harry had known for about a year now that he was attracted to men as well as women, and it was Zayn who had made him realise it. Every time he’d thrown an arm around Harry’s shoulders or smiled at him, he’d felt flushed, and there was a twist low down in his stomach.  
And now they were here in the morning, snuggling in bed together almost like a real couple. Harry longed that they could be.

He looked up, wanting to see Zayn’s gorgeous, sleeping face, only to find Zayn was in fact awake. Brown eyes met green, and Harry froze, then quickly pulled his hand away from Zayn’s chest. But Zayn didn’t seem weirded out. In fact, he was smiling gently.  
“Hey, Harry” he said in his husky morning voice.  
“Hey.” Harry whispered back.  
Zayn reached out and grabbed his iPhone from the bedside table. He looked at it through bleary eyes. The numbers onscreen shone 6.35.  
He wrapped his arms back around Harry, pulling him closer. Then he suddenly remembered that they were leaving for an interview at 6.45… in ten minutes.  
“Shit!” he exclaimed, pulling away from Harry and stumbling out of bed.  
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked from the blankets.  
“We’ve got to leave in ten minutes.”  
Harry rolled out of bed, grabbing his clothes, wallet and phone from the floor. But as he was about to leave, he had a sudden urge. He padded into the bathroom where Zayn was squeezing toothpaste onto a toothbrush. Harry quickly kissed Zayn on the cheek, then went off to his own room, leaving Zayn staring after him.

Zayn hopped in the shower, which was his favourite place to mull things over. When he’d woken to find Harry in his arms, gently tracing the tattoo by his collarbone, he’d thought he was dreaming. He’d had somewhat similar dreams, actually. But it wasn’t a dream.  
Harry had kissed him last night, and again this morning. Granted, this morning’s was only on the cheek, and last night’s wasn’t exactly the hottest, most passionate kiss, but it had been gentle and caring. He might have looked last night over as Harry just being drunk, but he was surely sober this morning, and kissing someone on the cheek after waking up in their arms didn’t really seem much like a just friends thing to do.  
He realised, and it startled him a little, that he really hoped it wasn’t the last time this happened.

Harry couldn’t think what had come over him, kissing Zayn on the cheek as he left. Before that, he’d still have probably been able to pass things off as meaning nothing to him, but now there was no chance of that. But he realised that although he was worrying how Zayn would take it, he hadn’t really thought about how Zayn had reacted.  
The more Harry fretted over it, the more he realised that actually, Zayn really didn’t seem to mind what had gone on. In fact, last night he’d kissed Harry back just a little, although he was almost as drunk as Harry had been. But then he’d pulled Harry closer this morning after checking his phone, and Harry could have sworn he’d seen a hint of a smile after he’d kissed Zayn’s cheek as he left.

The thing was, that apart from last night’s kiss, none of what had gone on was really very strange by their standards. Harry had woken up in Louis’ bed loads of times, a couple of times in all the other lad’s, and even had woken up in bed with all of them once. He’d shared a kiss on the cheek with all the boys more than once. And he’d woken up cuddling Louis and Niall closely before. They all knew it meant nothing - they had just become so close that their physical boundaries were a lot lower that those of your regular teenage guys.  
But the weird thing about him and Zayn was that all of it had gone on in a timeframe of about four hours. They usually allowed plenty of space between the more full-on physical displays of affection - even if it was just so people wouldn’t go writing tabloid articles about them. But neither he or Zayn had pulled back from anything. And then there was their kiss. Brief as it had been, Zayn definitely hadn’t objected.  
Harry wondered what Zayn was thinking about it all. He briefly entertained the notion that maybe Zayn had enjoyed it as much as he had. But logic won out and Harry told himself he’d better forget that idea. He’d just give Zayn some space for a couple of days, then act like nothing had happened.

A few minutes later, the boys all met their team in the hotel corridor, went downstairs and piled into a van. Liam, Louis and Niall, first outside, clambered in the back as Zayn and Harry hurried out of the lobby and took the middle seats, Harry carrying a towel in his hands for his still-wet hair.  
Sticking to his plan, he didn’t look at Zayn as he buckled his seatbelt and rubbed furiously at his damp curls.  
A few minutes later, though, Harry noticed Zayn wasn’t joining in with the banter coming from the backseat. Hoping Zayn wasn’t sulking or freaked out over what had gone on between them, Harry sneaked a glance at him. He was startled to find Zayn’s eyes already locked on his. Feeling awkward, Harry looked away, but checked back a moment later and found Zayn was still watching him, with a small smile on his face. It wasn’t a smirk and it was far from a grin, but it was sweet and caught Harry off-guard. It wasn’t what he’d been expecting. He tried to understand it, then blinked when he realised he was staring. But Zayn was still looking into his eyes.

Suddenly Harry understood, just as Zayn reached out and wove his fingers through Harry’s own. Zayn was trying to tell him that he was ok with what had happened last night and this morning. In fact, possibly more than ok with it. Harry looked down at the tanned hand clasped in his pale one, then back into Zayn’s dark eyes. Harry certainly hadn’t seen that coming. A smile spread across his face.

The two boys were thinking the exact same thing. They couldn’t be sure exactly what this was but it was very different to anything else either of them had known. Good different though. It was something that made them both feel warmly happy, but could also get their hearts racing. It was a strange feeling, but neither of them could deny that they liked it.

 

An hour later, the boys were seated in front of a studio audience for their T.V. interview. The last make-up person finished dusting powder onto them and vanished. Seconds later, they were live.  
The interview began with all the usual questions - how did they like their stay in the current country, what did they like most about being on tour and in a boy band, and all the other regular enquiries with they could now answer as smoothly as clockwork.  
However, when they got to questions sent it by the fans on Twitter, things got pretty interesting. Someone had sent in Who was the last person you kissed on the lips?

Louis and Liam honestly answered it was their girlfriends, and Niall cracked the crowd up with his story about a crazy fan who had grabbed him by the face and planted a massive kiss on him at a signing a few days earlier. Next on the couch was Harry, but after Niall finished speaking there was an awkward silence.  
Louis broke it, saying, “Earth to Harry, it’s your turn.”  
Harry cleared his throat, feeling heat creep into his cheeks. “Uh… I’d prefer not to say” he choked out.  
“Mysterious!” commented the interviewer. “And you, Zayn?”  
Zayn kept his cool a lot better than Harry, smoothly replying, “No comment here, either, sorry.”

This caused laughter and wolf whistles from the audience but thankfully Zayn and Harry managed to laugh it off, and everyone seemed to be taking it as a joke. Everyone except Liam, who, unlike Louis and Niall, was not wetting himself with laughter, but frowning down the sofa at Zayn.  
Zayn didn’t think Liam could possibly believe the insinuation that everyone was making, so he guessed that Liam was probably frowning at him because he thought Zayn couldn’t remember the name of the last girl he’d kissed. Surely there was no way Liam could have figured out that Zayn and Harry’s last kiss had really been each other?

The rest of the interview passed without incident, and once the boys had piled back into the car and tucked into the food that Ian and Paul had got them, Zayn completely forgot that Liam had seemed to know something more was going on. Louis had them all in hysterics with his antics involving straws anyway, so Zayn didn’t notice that Liam was still staring at him and Harry every now and then.

A couple of days later, the boys had a few hours to kill over lunch time, so Louis, Liam and Niall were doing a sky dive. Zayn, being afraid of heights, had opted out of it, and Harry had volunteered to stay with him. Normally it would be Niall who would take on that role, but Harry had surprised everyone, including himself, by beating Niall to offer. It had mostly been because he hadn’t had Zayn to himself since the night they’d kissed, as they’d been so busy.  
After the others left, Harry was sitting in the armchair in Zayn’s room, while Zayn lay sprawled across his bed.  
“So, what do you want to do?” Harry asked.  
“I was thinking of getting another tattoo, but I’m not sure if I’m happy with the design yet.”  
“Let’s see it?” Harry said, and Zayn grabbed a notebook from his bedside cabinet and threw it to him.  
Flicking through the book in his hands, Harry was impressed, as always, by Zayn’s talent at art. Although he mostly doodled and drew cartoons or tattoo designs, there were several amazing sketches that looked like they’d been drawn from hotel room balconies. Harry recognised a mountainous skyline that was definitely Austria, and a river fringed with palm trees that looked like Spain.  
If things went really horribly wrong for the band, Harry thought jokingly that Zayn could make a living as a tattoo artist if he had to. He certainly had the steady hands for it, unless he was desperate for a cigarette.

Flipping to the last drawing, Harry saw how the design had evolved. It finally settled on a intricately decorated hourglass. There was an inscription etched into the glass, but Harry couldn’t read the foreign script.  
“What does the writing mean?” he asked.  
“It’s a saying in Arabic. It translates to something along the lines of, Every day is a new day, but dawn won’t always rise. It’s basically saying live life to the fullest.”  
“Deep.” Harry commented, slightly off-hand, but seeing Zayn frown, he said, “No, it actually is. And I really like the design.”  
Harry knew how sensitive Zayn was about his tattoos, probably because they meant a lot to him. Zayn smiled a little though, and Harry knew he hadn’t offended him.  
“Whereabouts would you get it?” Harry asked.  
“My ribs, on the left side, to balance out my playing card. About here.” Zayn replied, indicating a spot below his armpit.  
“Is this drawing to scale?”  
“Yup.”  
Harry contemplated the hourglass, about 20 cm tall including the lotus flower. He couldn’t deny how hot he found Zayn’s tattoos and he knew this one would be no exception. Harry’s favourite was the Samoan-style sleeve that Zayn had got the second time they visited New Zealand. On the opposite side to the forearm sleeve Zayn had gradually built up over the last couple of years, it ran from just above his elbow, covering his whole bicep and shoulder, then reaching up his neck and onto his shoulder blade a little bit.  
Harry realised that he had never actually been present at one of Zayn’s tattoo sitting, even thought there had been a ridiculous amount of them. Yet Zayn had been there when he got the star on the inside of his upper arm, which had been his first one, and many of the other scrawlings across his body. Harry wanted to see a sitting.  
“Let’s get you inked then.” Harry said.  
“You think it’s finished?” Zayn asked.  
Harry flipped through the notebook again. “Yeah, it looks perfect.”  
“Alright, we’ll go in five then. I know a good place near here. Just going to have a smoke.” Zayn said, grabbing his packet and lighter and disappearing out onto the balcony.

 

Harry absently continued flicking through the blank pages of the sketch pad when something caught his eye. He’d come across some more drawings, and opened up the page to see an incredibly realistic Liam staring moodily back at him. The drawing had been roughly sketched in pencil, then filled in with chalk and charcoal.  
Turning the page, Harry got a shock when he saw himself in profile, looking up at a starry sky. He knew when this was from - he could tell from the cliffs in the background and the intricate railing he was leaning on that this was when the five of them had gone camping for three days in Ireland, last time they’d been in Britain. Looking carefully through the book, he saw all of the boys, Zayn’s family, and even Louis’ sisters (who Harry could imagine would have been more than happy to sit for a portrait.)  
But by far the most drawn person was him, Harry. He saw his own face almost every other page, sometimes more often than that. Zayn had sketched him close-up in almost every emotion, from laughing to crying, angry to mischievous. There were also many mid- and full-length drawings. Standing in the wing curtains of a stage, waiting to perform. Cooking with Louis. Sleeping on a plane. Awkwardly posing for his first underwear advert (which he’d dragged Zayn along to for moral support). Hugging Liam. Eating a dripping ice cream in Central Park, Manhattan. Screwing up his nose as someone put mascara on him. Arm wrestling Niall. Pulling a bemused face as he accepted an award for Best Dressed Under 21 from some magazine or another. It was scary how accurately Zayn had drawn him. He felt like he was holding a mirror, rather than a sketch book. 

Harry wandered out onto the balcony, notebook in hand. Zayn was sitting down with his feet up on the table, blowing smoke over the city.  
“Zayn, how come you’ve never showed us these drawings of us? They’re brilliant.”  
Zayn looked like a rabbit caught in headlights. “You looked at those? All of them?” he choked.  
“Yeah, I love them! Why are you blushing, they’re really good. Don’t be embarrassed.” Harry replied.  
“I just feel awkward that you’ve seen drawings of yourself that you never knew I was doing. It’s a bit creepy.”  
Harry laughed, “It’s not creepy at all. But I don’t know how you do it, cause I’ve hardly ever seen you with a pencil and sketch book in hand.”  
“I have a very photographic memory.” Zayn said, then began to add something else, but stopped himself. Harry waited but all Zayn said was, “Let’s go get me tattooed then.”

It turned out that due to there being hardly any muscle or fat between the bones and the surface of the skin, the side of the ribs was a pretty painful place to get inked. Zayn had lost a lot of weight since his playing card had been done on the other side. He didn’t make a sound but he had to squeeze his eyes tight shut. At one point he grabbed Harry’s hand and kept it on the edge of breaking his fingers until everything was over.

Syncing his breath so it was held while the needle buzzed meant talking wasn’t much of an option, but Zayn found that he had plenty of thoughts to distract him - mostly about Harry. Earlier, he’s been about to hint just how much he cared about him. After all, Harry had already seen the sketches and surely it hadn’t escaped his notice that over half of them were of him. So Zayn had thought maybe he’d just throw caution to the winds and say I have a very photographic memory… of people and moments that meant a lot to me.  
He’d wanted to tell Harry that when he looked at him, he tried to burn the image into his brain so he could never forget it, and the images he’d made himself remember were the easiest ones to draw, but he’d chickened out of telling Harry at the last moment.

The reason for that was that Zayn was well aware of how delicate the situation was. He and Harry had to take things slowly and carefully. If they dived in too deep, too soon, things could go very wrong. Both of them had to be completely sure that each other was what they truly wanted, or else things would only end badly and painfully.

So, even though every time Harry shook his hair out, Zayn wanted to run his hands through the silky curls… Even though when Harry smiled shyly at him, Zayn wanted to drop a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose… Even though when Harry pulled off his jumper, revealing the waistband of his underwear and a strip of toned stomach, Zayn wanted to rip off Harry’s shirt, and his trousers, too… Even though everything Harry did made him feel a pull in the pit of his stomach and made him desperate to pull Harry close… Zayn had to fight against it and settle for an arm around Harry’s waist or shoulders.

The thing was, Zayn was still coming to terms with his feelings for Harry. Before that night, he’d never even thought that maybe he was attracted to men as well as… or instead of… women. True, he got bored of his relationships with girls very quickly, and hips, thighs and boobs didn’t excite him anywhere near as much as they excited his mates. And every time he kissed a girl there was never really any chemistry. But he’d just thought he hadn’t found the right girl yet, and that one day he’d find someone who could get his heart pounding.

He hadn’t expected that person to be Harry though. And yet, there was no denying how fucking attractive he found him… Could he be gay? He freaked out a little at the thought of that word. Surely he wasn’t. Before now, he’d never looked at guys like that.  
That’s a lie said a little voice at the back of his brain. He tried to ignore it, but he knew it was right. He’d always thought Harry (and Louis) were ridiculously good-looking. And at signings, he paid absolutely no attention to any of the hundreds of girls that passed in front of him, but if one brought a boyfriend along… He’d told himself that it was just because he was interested in the dynamics - the couple meeting the five lads that the girl dreamt of being with and how the boyfriend reacted to it. But he was only interested sometimes… Notably, when the boyfriend was gorgeous. Oh god, he shouldn’t apply that word to guys.  
But why not though? He asked himself. So what if he was gay? Was that really such a big deal? He definitely didn’t want to be one of those people that deny their sexuality until their mid-life crisis. He’d much rather be honest with himself now. And to be totally frank, he thought that yes, he probably was gay. But for now he was keeping that to himself.

 

The tattooist announced he was done, and Zayn let go of Harry’s hand. The ink and touch of blood was wiped from Zayn’s side and he briefly looked at his new tattoo in the mirror before it got covered by cling film. Zayn winced as he put his shirt back on, stretching his side out, but Harry was there, smiling reassuringly and reminding him of the many times he’d done this before, and he knew he’d be completely fine.

Twenty minutes later, the two of them were back in Zayn’s hotel room. Zayn was glad he had Harry with him. The others might have taken the piss out of him for making a fuss even though he was used to tattoos by now, or for the way he was walking, trying not to move his right side. But not Harry, who was just there to smile and ask him if the soreness was getting better, and to bring him a beer and a bag of pretzels, then sit down next to him.  
“Wonder when the others are going to get back?” Zayn said between bites of pretzel.  
“Dunno, I think they had to go a while out of town for the skydive though.” Harry replied.  
He pulled his phone out and checked his twitter to see if any of the boys had tweeted that they’d done it. There was nothing, although Liam had tweeted an hour ago Just about to board the plane for first ever skydive with @Louis_Tomlinson and @Niall_Horan … Can’t wait!

Harry’s mentions were mostly people asking him what he and Zayn were up to. He picked one randomly and tweeted them back Nursing @Zayn_Malik at the hotel with pretzels after yet another tattoo!  
Of course, his mentions blew up with people demanding that he post a picture of it, so he got Zayn to put one up. Then everyone started asking them to do a LiveStream.  
“What do you think?” he asked Zayn.  
“I don’t mind, but we’re just being boring in the hotel…”  
“Isn’t that all we do on LiveStream anyway?” Harry said, laughing.  
“Here’s an idea: get them to send us Would You Rathers.” Zayn suggested, so Harry grabbed Zayn’s laptop, while Zayn tweeted Send us would you rathers and we’ll answer them on LiveStream #1DWYR

The two of them wasted a good hour and a half answering crazy and creative questions, until the other boys got in, buzzing from their adrenaline rush. They all went on the LiveStream for a few minutes, until Paul nearly broke down the door, telling them to get ready to go to the arena for sound check.

 

The next night after their show, the boys only had twenty minutes to shower and pack up before they had to leave for the airport. Harry hated this - it seemed like almost every night lately he’d had to get a couple of hours sleep at a time, between departure lounges, plane flights, taxi rides, and in the wee hours, new hotel rooms. Then he’d have to be up for interviews at 6 or 7. It was the one thing he couldn’t stand about being on tour - he rarely got a whole night’s sleep in one place, and lately it also meant he couldn’t spend his nights with Zayn. 

Just as he’d finished throwing his stuff into his suitcase, he heard Zayn outside the door, “Harry, can I come in?”  
Speak of the devil, Harry thought before calling out “Yeah.”  
Zayn walked in, wearing blue Vans, dark green chinos and a grey tank top. He looked great, Harry thought as he stared.  
“How’s the tat?” he asked.  
“Not too bad actually. Have you seen my burgundy Jack Wills hoody?”  
“Yeah, I think Niall was wearing it yesterday.” Harry replied.  
“Thanks, I’ll go and ask him.” Zayn said but he didn’t move from where he was seated on the arm of the sofa in Harry’s room, staring at the floor.  
“What’s up?” Harry asked, walking over.

Zayn looked into Harry’s eyes and decided not to try to hide anything. If he couldn’t trust Harry, who could he trust? Harry could see the emotion written all over Zayn’s face, as he stood up and wrapped his arms around his waist. Harry responded by pulling Zayn closer by the hips.  
Close enough to feel each other’s breath, their noses brushing, they stared into each other’s eyes. They held it for a few seconds, but when Zayn bit his lip out of nervousness, Harry couldn’t resist him any longer.  
He pressed his lips to Zayn’s and tried to convey everything he felt in the kiss: how lost he’d be without Zayn, how goddamn irresistible he was, and how, even though he didn’t want to take things too far, he needed Zayn to know how much he wanted him.

As Zayn kissed him back, Harry knew it was all understood, and that Zayn felt exactly the same way about him. Zayn couldn’t help thinking how much better it felt than any girl he’d ever kissed. He loved the hard muscles pressed against him and the strength in Harry’s arms and hands. He loved the slight roughness in Harry’s kiss and that even his tongue felt different to a girl’s, but in such a good way. 

Suddenly a knock on the door broke the two boys apart.  
“Harry?” came Niall’s voice from the other side of the door.

Panting slightly, Harry called back, “Um, yeah?”  
The door opened, revealing their blonde band mate.  
“Are you just about ready to go? Cause the car’s outside. Oh, hi Zayn.” Niall said in his lilting Irish accent, oblivious to what had been going on just before.  
“Yep, I’m ready.” Harry replied, zipping up his suitcase.  
Just then, Liam’s voice came from the corridor, “Niall, do you know where Zayn is? He’s not in his room.”  
“He’s here.” Niall said over his shoulder.  
Liam also appeared in the doorway. “We’ve got to go now guys.”  
“I just told them that.” said Niall, playfully punching Liam on the arm.  
“Do you have my burgundy Jack Wills hoody, Niall?” Zayn asked.  
“Oh yeah, I packed it in my suitcase already.” Niall said shamelessly. Zayn rolled his eyes and walked out, followed by Niall, but Liam remained in the doorway watching Harry.  
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked.  
“Why are you out of breath?” Liam said suspiciously.  
Harry panicked. Liam was by far the most observant of the band, and Harry was the worst liar.  
“Zayn and I were… um… having a push-up competition.” Even as he said it, he knew it was a pretty lame excuse. Liam raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment as he left. Harry knew Liam didn’t believe him. The question was, would he figure out the truth?

An hour and a half later, the boys were waiting in the Departure Lounge of Gate 12B at the airport. Harry wasn’t with them - he was stocking up on god knows what at Duty Free. Niall was dozing on Liam’s shoulder while Zayn and Louis played cards. Almost all the security and management team were fast asleep, stretched out on the floor or across seats. The airport was a ghost town - there were only about ten other people waiting for their flight and they’d hardly seen anyone else anywhere. There hadn’t been any queues at security either, although the boys would have been able skip them if there had been. An announcement on the intercom stated that their flight would board in five minutes.  
Zayn got up, yawned, stretched, and told the others he was going find Harry. Wandering through the wide, carpeted corridor lined with small, brightly-lit stores, he came across his curly-haired band mate, laden with shopping bags. As Harry saw Zayn coming towards him, he smiled.  
“Woah, Haz. Got enough stuff there?” Zayn teased.  
Harry had the decency to look sheepish. “I got some presents for my Mum and Gemma.”  
Zayn loved when he saw Harry’s thoughtful side - not many people outside of the band and Harry’s family got to know that side of his personality. Zayn threw an arm around him sort of sideways, but Harry dropped his bags and pulled him into a proper bear hug.  
“I wish we hadn’t been interrupted earlier.” Zayn whispered, lips brushing Harry’s ear.  
“Me too,” Harry replied, “But maybe we can pick up where we left off.”  
Harry laughed at Zayn’s wary expression as he pulled back.  
“I didn’t mean now, idiot. Later, at the hotel.” Harry said with a cheeky glint in his eye.  
Zayn’s expression softened and he laughed as he grabbed some of Harry’s stuff and led the way back to the departure lounge.

As soon as they were settled in on the plane, Zayn spread a blanket over himself and Harry, their fingers secretly locked together underneath it. They shared Harry’s iPod, listening to Ed Sheeran. The gentle melody and Ed’s hushed voice soon sent both of them to sleep, with Harry’s head in the crook of Zayn’s neck and Zayn resting his own head peacefully on top.

This is start of something beautiful  
This is start of something new  
You are the one that make me loose it all  
You are the start of something new

True to his word, at 4am Harry snuck into Zayn’s hotel room, that he had left unlocked so Harry could come in. But Harry was disappointed to find that, even though the lights were still on and Zayn was still dressed, curled up on top of the sheets, he had fallen asleep.  
Harry very carefully untied and removed Zayn’s shoes, then turned the lights out, grabbed a spare quilt from the chair and draped it over them, lying down so his chest was brushing Zayn’s back. As Harry lay, propped up on his elbow with his other arm holding Zayn close, he took a moment just to admire how fucking beautiful Zayn was, especially when he was sleeping and all the stress had left his expression. Harry pressed his lips to the fantail tattoo at the back of Zayn’s neck, and Zayn shifted and blearily opened his eyes, looking up.  
“Harry?” he murmured.  
“Yeah, it’s just me. Go back to sleep.” Harry whispered, rubbing Zayn’s shoulder.  
Gently, Zayn kissed him for a second, before relaxing back into Harry’s embrace. A minute later, both of them were fast asleep.

The next morning, someone pounding on the door frightened them both out of their dreams. They froze, still wrapped around each other.  
Then Louis yelled, “Zayn, get up! Zayn!”  
They heard Liam say, “Try the door.” and suddenly Louis burst in, clutching a tube of Pringles and a handful of Mars Bars. He deposited them on the end of the bed, then went to open the curtains.  
Knowing Louis wouldn’t think anything of it, Harry and Zayn took their time to untangle from each other and climb out of bed, yawning and rubbing their eyes. But then Liam spoke from the doorway, making them jump as neither of them had seen him.  
“What’s going on here then?” he said. His voice sounded light-hearted, but at a glance Zayn could see the seriousness in his eyes.  
Louis, more sensitive to the subtleties of people than he got credit for, clearly sensed it too. “That’s your breakfast.” He announced, indicating the snacks on the bed before vanishing into the hallway.  
Harry called, “Thanks love!” after him, then turned to Liam.  
“Zayn had a nightmare… I was making sure it didn’t come back.” he lied.  
Liam didn’t reply, but closed the door and sat down on the end of the bed as Harry pulled on some clothes from Zayn’s suitcase.

Looking at both of them, Liam said, “What exactly is going on between the two of you?”  
Harry looked like a fish out of water, so Zayn replied, “I have no idea what you mean.”  
Liam looked doubtful. “Oh, don’t give me that. The last couple of weeks, you two have been inseparable, and I hate to break it to you but you’re not very discrete about things. You’ve been ignoring everyone else and staring dreamily at each other the whole time, and I know you guys were holding hands on the plane. I saw you kiss in the van a while ago, and forgive me if I’m right, but you were also kissing last night before we went to the airport. Don’t tell me I’m imagining it.”  
Zayn and Harry were both blushing. They glanced at each other, and once again were glad of their ability to communicate without words. They both knew what they had to do.  
Zayn swallowed. “No, you’re not imagining it.”  
“So what’s the deal then?” Liam asked gently.  
Harry spoke up. “I don’t think either of us really know exactly what the deal is. But I’ll say now that the way I feel about Zayn is different to how I feel about anyone else. You guys are my best friends, but Zayn is really something more than that. And I’m not afraid to say… I’m attracted to him.”  
Harry glanced at Zayn and was glad to see a smile. Liam also looked at Zayn expectantly.  
“Exactly how I feel.” Zayn said.  
Liam sighed. “So is this going to be a secret relationship sort of deal?”  
“I guess.” Harry answered.  
Zayn cut in. “Please don’t tell anyone, Liam, even Louis and Niall. We’ll tell people when we’re ready.”  
“Okay. I promise.” Liam replied, getting up from the bed. “By the way, Louis wasn’t kidding about that being your breakfast. We had to ration out our snacks because we don’t have time to get food until after our first interview.”

After Liam had left, Zayn pulled Harry close.  
“I’m so glad you feel the same about me. I still wasn’t totally sure. And I wondered if maybe you’re just going with it because you feel like it at the moment, but you might not tomorrow or next week.”  
Harry smiled. “No, I’m not changing my mind any time soon.”  
“Me neither. Now piss off and get ready.” He teased, pushing Harry away.  
Laughing, Harry ducked in and dropped a kiss on Zayn’s cheek before he disappeared off to his own room.

 

Over the next week, Zayn and Harry were totally unable to keep their affection from showing through. They were constantly touching, always staring at each other and flirting. Harry often saw Liam looking bemused - he was probably trying to frown or tell them off, but couldn’t be stern enough. Interviewers and the fans seemed to find it funny though - it was an advantage that people assumed that they were just playing up the bromance for laughs. It covered the truth, although Harry thought that if they carried on this way, people would start asking questions. The fans were very observant, they’d be able to tell that things were running deeper than just a bromance, and Harry had a private bet with himself that pretty soon, he and Zayn would be the subject of a lot of gossip.

Sure enough, later that week he and Zayn were alone in a lounge backstage before a show. Harry was lying on a sofa, his head on Zayn’s lap, and was scrolling through his twitter mentions. They were completely full of #Zarry.  
He showed Zayn, who laughed.  
“I guess we could probably try a bit harder to keep it on the down low.” He commented, playing with Harry’s hair.  
Harry smirked and went back to his phone, but a minute later, Zayn spoke again.  
“What will we do if someone asks us about it in an interview?”  
Harry replied seriously, “I don’t think that will happen. You know what they’re like, people only ask us about gossip that’s months and months old.”  
“But when they do?” Zayn insisted.  
“Then… I think we should tell them the truth.”  
Zayn looked terrified, so Harry quickly tried to smooth it over.  
“I mean, obviously not if we haven’t already told the boys, and our families, and management haven’t given it the thumbs up.”  
His attempt at comforting Zayn had left him looking even more worried.  
“I hadn’t even thought about all that.” he whispered.  
“Come here.” Harry said, sitting up and wrapping his arms around Zayn. “We’ll take everything one step at a time. I mean, it’s only been a couple of weeks. Right now, we’re both sure about everything but there’s a chance that at some point, one or both of us might not feel so sure. So we’ll take it at our own pace. We won’t tell anyone if we’re not both totally happy with it. And until then, we can always pass it off as a close friendship that people are reading too much into. That’s what we’ve always said even when we weren’t together, especially Louis and I, so no-one’s going to question it. I don’t like lying about it, but I know it’s necessary, and you know I’d always lie for you if you needed me to.”  
Zayn squeezed Harry tight and whispered “Thank you.”  
The next week passed in much the same way. They were nearing the end of the tour, so they had even more interviews, signings and publicity events packed in than usual, before their well-deserved fortnight off. No-one had yet asked the question that Zayn and Harry were dreading. Lately, because they were so infuriatingly busy, things had been more difficult for them. They’d had to snatch private moments in dressing rooms backstage and in the early hours of the morning at hotel rooms, leaving them even more exhausted and sleep-deprived than the other boys. In public, they managed to be linked most of the time, by an arm around the shoulder, or a hand in a bum pocket. Zayn noticed that Liam, being the amazing friend he was, had taken his own bromances with Niall and Louis up a notch so Zayn and Harry wouldn’t stand out.  
Zayn quietly pulled him aside one night after a show and thanked him.  
“No problem, mate, just looking out for you guys.” Liam replied, “Lou and Nialler are getting a bit funny about things though. You and Harry are going to have to tell them at some point, before things get messy.”

That night, as he and Harry lay with their arms around each other, nose to nose in Harry’s bed, Zayn brought up his earlier conversation with Liam.  
“Harry, I think it’s time we tell the other lads what’s going on.”  
“Mmm hmm” Harry muttered sleepily, his eyes closed. Zayn shook him gently and he looked up.  
“Hey, listen to me. We have to tell the boys about us.”  
“Why? This is perfect as it is.”  
“No, it’s not. The others are feeling excluded and it’s causing some tension. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed it. It’s best that we tell them now, instead of waiting for an argument about it.”  
Harry thought it over for a minute. “I guess you’re right. When do you want to tell them?”  
“Soon. Tomorrow, if there’s a good moment.”  
“After the show?” Harry suggested.  
“Yeah. That could work.”  
Harry sleepily kissed Zayn on the tip of his nose, then relaxed to go back to sleep. But a few minutes later, he looked up again, emerald eyes wide.  
“I’m scared of what they’ll say.”  
Zayn smoothed Harry’s hair. “Well, Liam took it pretty well, didn’t he? I wouldn’t be surprised if Louis already has an inkling of what’s happening, he doesn’t miss a thing. And he’ll love us no matter what. As for Niall, he’ll be surprised, but you know him. He just accepts whatever life throws his way, he rolls with what’s put in front of him. He’ll be fine with it. So really, there’s nothing to worry about.”  
Harry smiled sweetly up at Zayn through his eyelashes and pulled him closer.  
He still couldn’t get over the silky feel of Zayn’s skin on his own bare chest and arms, and the way Zayn looked at him that made his heart pound. But what he loved most was how much Zayn cared about him. When they were together, Harry knew that no matter what happened, he’d be safe.  
Content in these thoughts, Harry drifted back to sleep.

Their next day was unbelievably busy, even by the current standards. They were up at five for two breakfast-time interviews, then they were rushed off to a photo shoot that ran through lunch. Next they had an appearance at a charity fundraiser before being rushed off to sound check, a backstage interview, and finally the show.  
Zayn and Harry hadn’t had a private moment together all day so Harry was pleased when Zayn grabbed him, with fifteen minutes left to go before they were due onstage, and pulled him into a small room that seemed to be storing broken technical equipment.  
Zayn closed the door behind them and leaned on it as Harry wrapped one hand around to rest on the small of his back and pushed him up against the door with the other on his hip. Harry gently kissed Zayn’s neck and whispered hungrily against it “I’m glad you found this place. I haven’t had you to myself all day, it’s torture.”  
He gently bit Zayn’s neck just above his collarbone.  
“Don’t, it’ll leave a mark.” Zayn hissed, but he felt Harry smirk against his neck.  
“So what? No-one’s going to know it was me that did it.”  
Zayn tried to think of an argument, but god, it felt so bloody good, and he gave in to it, pulling Harry by the waistband so he was leaning right into his and every inch of them was pressed together.  
Finishing the love bite, Harry kissed him hard on the mouth, making their hearts both pound and their breathing turn to panting.  
Just as Harry growled “Oh, fuck it.” And began to undo Zayn’s trousers, a woman’s voice called out, “Zayn? Harry? Where are you?”  
“Shit.” Zayn breathed as they both froze, wide-eyed and out of breath.  
“Just let her go past.” Harry whispered, doing Zayn’s chinos back up and pulling away.  
As the footsteps passed, the two boys silently tried to hide the signs of what had just happened. Harry flipped Zayn’s collar up, hiding the red mark that would soon bruise, but Zayn folded it down again.  
“Like you said, let it show. No-one’s going to know where it came from.”  
Zayn smoothed down Harry’s hair and they stepped into the corridor.  
When they got to the wings of the stage, everyone was going frantic trying to find them. Harry lied that he’d gone to the bathroom, while Zayn claimed that he’d gone outside for a cigarette. Everyone seemed to believe them, but with just seconds left before they went onstage, Liam smirked at Zayn.  
“A cigarette, huh? That’s why your packet and lighter are still in the make-up room.” He then prodded Zayn’s neck right where Harry’d bitten, causing him to wince.  
Liam winked and sauntered onstage, leaving Zayn floundering. He only just managed to pull himself together and put on a calm, relaxed front in time for his entrance.

Throughout the show, Zayn and Harry constantly caught each other’s eye. At the beginning, they knew they were both thinking about their hot little session before. But as the set went on, it became clear that they were pre-occupied by another thought – that after the show, they were going to tell Louis and Niall about their relationship. Both the boys began to feel incredibly nervous, even though they told themselves they had no reason to be. By the time they performed the final song, What Makes You Beautiful, they both felt a bit sick. Harry couldn’t concentrate on what he was doing. He felt completely out of breath and for the first time in months, he messed up his solo again. 

Walking offstage, the other boys were high-fiving and buzzing off the high that performing to thousands still gave them every time. Harry and Zayn were subdued though. Niall noticed and patted Harry on the back, saying “Don’t worry about the stuff-up, it wasn’t even that noticeable, especially with how wild the crowd were going! They probably couldn’t even hear you.”  
Harry thought it was sweet of Niall to care, but he had the wrong idea of course. Screwing up his solo was the last thing on his mind. Harry noticed Liam and Louis also look at him in a concerned way, but he avoided their eyes and tried to calm his breathing. We can do this, he told himself, watching Zayn and reminding himself of the comforting words that he had reassured Harry with yesterday. It relaxed him a little, but he still felt sick.

When they all stepped out of the elevator and headed down the corridor to their hotel rooms, Zayn called out, “Hey lads, get cleaned up and meet in my room in ten, okay?”  
They all called back, “Sounds good.” and let themselves into their rooms.

As Harry showered, he noticed his hands were trembling. Calm down, it will be fine, he told himself.  
Throwing on beige chinos and a black t-shirt, he made his way to Zayn’s room. It was unlocked, but he was the first one there and Zayn was still in the shower. Harry sat on the bed, playing Fruit Ninja on his phone and exercising the willpower not to check his twitter. He really didn’t want to know if anyone had noticed his nerves and the fuck-up he’d made tonight.  
A minute later, Zayn emerged in a cloud of steam.  
“Hey.” he said simply, turning his back and finding some clothes in his suitcase before dropping the towel knotted around his waist.  
Harry couldn’t help admiring Zayn’s body. A couple of years ago, Zayn had been pretty scrawny while the rest of them had still carried some baby fat. But time had passed, they’d all got into working out, and now Zayn had an amazing, long, lean physique. Harry watched him get dressed, fascinated with the way his muscles moving made his tattoos ripple.  
Zayn turned around with a smug expression, feeling Harry’s stare, and joked, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”  
He came over and sat down on the bed too, just as Liam and Louis walked in. They sat on the sofa, stuffing their faces with peanuts, crisps and Haribo’s gummy bears until Niall finally sauntered in, holding a carrier bag containing his secret stash of alcohol. He poured out a couple of different liquers into glasses that Harry set out and added lemonade.

As they all sat down, sampling the delicious drinks, Zayn plucked up his courage and began to speak.  
“So… Harry and I have something we need to tell you.”  
He saw Liam look up sharply and caught his eye. Liam nodded encouragingly and Zayn cleared his throat.  
“Um… you’ve probably noticed that we’ve been closer than usual for the last while…”  
Glancing up to see Niall and Louis sitting completely still and staring, he faltered, unable to find the words he wanted to say. But Harry took over.  
“What he’s trying to say is that we’re kind of… boyfriends, I guess.” He said quietly.  
Louis just smiled knowingly but Niall had thrown his drink all over himself.  
“Is this a joke?” he spluttered, grabbing Zayn’s towel off the floor and dabbing his shirt.  
“No.” Zayn replied and in a moment of bravery grabbed Harry’s hand.  
“Definitely not a joke.” Harry said and they smiled at each other.  
“So… you two are, what? Gay?” Louis asked, but kindly.  
“I think I am.” Zayn replied.  
“I… like both.” Harry said, blushing and thinking he didn’t really want to discuss this with his best friends.  
Niall had recovered by now and said, “Well, I really did not see that coming. But in case you thought I wasn’t cool with it, I am. You know, seeing as I just about had a seizure before.”  
“Thanks Nialler” Harry said with a grin.  
Louis commented “You’re pretty quiet over there, Liam.”  
They all looked over. Liam looked a bit ashamed as he said “Yeah… I already knew.”  
“You told him before us?” Niall asked, looking a little hurt.  
“No, I noticed and asked them about it. They couldn’t exactly lie to me.” Liam cut in.  
Everyone sat quietly for a moment, absorbing the news and the reactions to it.  
Then Louis jumped up and announced, “Well, I think you’ll all agree that seeing as we don’t have a flight tonight but the time difference means we’re wide awake, it would be a pretty ideal time to hit the clubs!”  
He was met with a chorus of agreement, so Harry called out, “Meet you all in the hallway in five!” as they disappeared to grab their wallets and get changed.  
As Zayn fixed his hair, he though about how easy that had been. He played back Harry’s voice in his head, “We’re kind of… boyfriends.” Zayn smiled. He liked that. They hadn’t actually talked about whether they were an actual couple, but he’d considered things to be that way, and obviously Harry did too. He felt elated thinking that Harry was his.

An hour later, the boys were in a cub surrounded by pounding music and a disproportionately large number of gorgeous women grinding to the beat. Zayn, Liam and Louis were sitting at a table, chatting to a couple who told them they’d met as extras on the set of the music video for Live While We’re Young, which they’d filmed last year. Niall was over by the bar flirting with a stunning brunette that Zayn thought he might recognise from billboards. Zayn was pleased to notice that since Niall had grown half a foot, got his braces off and added boxing to his work-out regime, the Irishman’s confidence had grown hugely. It showed through in his singing – he had almost as many solos as Liam on the third album due to how much stronger his voice had become – and it also showed in his game with the ladies.  
Zayn himself found that, surrounded as he was by beautiful girls, not a single one caught his eye or made him look twice. He noticed this and was intrigued by it. Instead he was only looking for Harry.  
Zayn had spotted him a couple of minutes ago, sandwiched between two blondes on the dance floor, but then he had disappeared into the crowd. So Zayn got the fright of his life when strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind and Harry said in his ear, “Getting jealous?”  
“Am I that obvious? And you know you just about gave me a heart attack.” Zayn replied.  
Harry grinned and took the empty seat next to Zayn. “Sorry.” he said, not looking sorry at all. “And yes, you are obvious. Sorry doll.”  
Zayn smiled. He didn’t care that Harry could practically read his mind.  
“Come and dance.” Harry said, grabbing Zayn’s drink and draining it in one go.  
“Oi, I was enjoying that!” he said, playfully punching Harry in the stomach.  
Harry grabbed Zayn’s arms and pinned them to his side. “No violence, or I’ll have you kicked out.” He threatened, then pulled Zayn onto the dance floor.

Over the next week, none of the boys commented when Harry started to just take his stuff into Zayn’s room when they arrived at new hotels. They also accepted that Zayn and Harry had pretty much become Siamese twins – they literally had to be connected at all times, whether they were on a plane, backstage, onstage, in an interview, partying, hanging out at the hotel, or seeing the local sights. Zayn was glad that the others didn’t bring it up, but he was quite surprised that management hadn’t. Surely they sensed that something was going on beyond the normal friendship that the boys shared.

The end of the tour was fast approaching and the boys had all agreed that they’d separate for the first few days on their time off and spend it with their families or girlfriends until after Christmas. Zayn and Harry had agreed that during this time, they would both spend a couple of days at each others’ parents’ houses to tell them about their relationship. Both the boys were incredibly anxious and tense thinking about it, but they hoped their relatives would love them no matter what, and accept the other into the family.

The final days of the tour passed in a blur and the boys soon found themselves being rushed through security at Heathrow, sharing a group hug and then getting into separate cars to go to their own apartments. All of them slept for a day before making their own way to see their families.  
Just four days before Christmas, Zayn pulled up in the drive of the house Harry had bought for his mum and step-family. It was only about 20 minutes from where they’d lived before in Holmes-Chapel, but it was a lot more private. The converted barn was situated at the end of a long driveway ad the large grounds were protected from paparazzi by tall fences, made more attractive by the hedge and trees that lined the boundary. There was a separate guest house with just a bedroom, bathroom and kitchen/living room, and that was where he and Harry would be staying for the next two nights.

As Zayn got out of his BMW and crunched up the gravel driveway, the front door flew open and Harry rushed into his arms, tackling him to the ground. As he breathed in the combination of coconut shampoo and musky cologne that was the comforting smell of Harry, he thought how great it was to hold him again.  
Granted, they’d only been apart for five days and they had constantly been texting during that time, but nothing could beat Harry’s arms around his waist and neck.  
“I missed you.” Zayn murmured into Harry’s neck.  
Harry squeezed Zayn extra tight. “I missed you too.” He breathed against Zayn’s ear. The two of them stood up with massive smiles as Harry’s mum, Anne, appeared in the doorway.  
“Hello, Zayn, love.” she called, coming out to meet him.  
“Anne! How are you?” he replied, hugging her briefly and kissing her cheek as Harry grabbed his bags and guitar from the car boot and carried them up the path to the guest cabin.  
“Good, good, and yourself?”  
“Never better.” Zayn answered honestly.  
They watched Harry reappear and walk back to the main house as Anne called out, “Come on love, you’ll freeze to death!”  
“Stop fussing, Mum.” Harry said, laughing. As usual he didn’t seem to feel the cold and was dressed in just a white t-shirt and some khaki chinos.  
Tutting, Anne shut the door behind them. Squeezing Zayn’s arm, she said, “You’re just in time for lunch, sweetie. I’ve made my noodle soup and dumplings, I know how much you love it.”  
Zayn followed her into the dining room, Harry’s hand on the back of his hip, thinking how welcome he always felt at the Cox’s place. He really hoped they would welcome him into their family.

When the meal was finished, Zayn complemented the delicious food while Harry began to collect the dishes. Zayn moved to help, but Harry’s strong hand on his shoulder told him it wasn’t necessary.  
When Harry vanished with the bowls into the kitchen, Zayn could tell he was taking a moment to get his courage together and put his thoughts right before doing what they had to do: telling Harry’s family about their relationship. They’d agreed to tell them as soon as possible so that, if they took the news badly, at least they wouldn’t feel like Zayn had been taking advantage of their hospitality. Zayn chatted easily with Anne, Harry’s step-dad Robin, and his sister Gemma, until Harry returned.  
He looked a bit ill so Zayn smiled reassuringly.  
Harry’s expression became determined, and as he shakily took a deep breath, Zayn thought he looked like he’d force the words out, even if it damn near killed him. Harry’s slightly odd behaviour hadn’t escaped his family’s notice and Anne asked concernedly, “What’s wrong, love?”  
Harry cleared his throat. “I wanted to tell you all something important….” He faltered but a glance at Zayn steeled his nerves.  
“Basically, um… you should know that… in terms of people I’m interested in dating… um, women and men are equally attractive to me…” he paused again, but after another deep breath, he forced out the final sentence.  
“And also I’m dating Zayn.”  
For a moment, everyone at the table was completely frozen and Harry panicked. But then, Anne spoke.  
“Well sweetheart, if you’re happy, I’m happy.” She said slowly. Harry jumped out of his chair and stood behind her chair, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She rubbed his forearms and let his kiss her cheek. “I’m not going to say I saw that coming though!” Anne added light-heartedly. Harry chuckled. Looking up, he saw that his step-father and Gemma were both smiling. Gemma stood up and gestured for a hug. Robin joined in, then Anne went over, saying to Zayn, “Come here, you.” Zayn wrapped his arms around them all in one big group hug until it broke apart a moment later.  
“Penny for your thoughts, Gem?” Harry said with his arm around his sister’s shoulder.  
“You couldn’t have chosen anyone better to date.” Gemma replied, beaming at Zayn. Harry and Zayn took turns to hug her briefly before Harry turned to Robin.  
“Always keeping us on our toes aren’t you Harry? Well, it’s hardly my place to say, but I thoroughly approve. Zayn here is a fine young man.”  
“Thanks” Harry grinned, before Anne pulled him and Zayn into the front room saying “Now you two boys have to tell me all the details! When did all this kick off? Have you told anyone else yet?...”

At about ten that evening, Zayn and Harry said goodnight and made their way over to the guest house through the cold, dark garden. Zayn could hardly wait to have Harry alone. All day, Harry had been teasing him. It had driven him slightly insane.  
While they’d been lying on the sofa watching a film, Harry had been tracing circles on Zayn’s chest, deliberately rubbing the edge of his nipple which he damn well knew was really sensitive. He’d been whispering in his ear, brushing his lips across the lobe and one time even gently nibbling it. Then during dinner, his hand had been up high on the inside of Zayn’s thigh, his thumb slowly rubbing up and down. Zayn had been so distracted that anyone who talked to him had to repeat what they said, while Harry didn’t even try to hide his smirk. He was well aware of what he was doing to Zayn. Then after dinner when Zayn had been washing up, Harry had stood right behind him and run his thumbs along just inside the waistband of Zayn’s underwear, while brushing his lips against the back of Zayn’s neck. It was enough to make him want to smack Harry’s smug expression right off but Zayn couldn’t deny he liked it.

As soon as they got in the door, Zayn pinned Harry against the wall and kissed him hard on the mouth, leaning his hands against the wall either side of Harry’s head. Harry kissed back for a few seconds, but then Zayn felt strong arms shove him away.  
“What?” he whined, infuriated.  
“I’m showering first.” Harry announced before sauntering off into the bathroom and closing the door.

Ten minutes later, Harry emerged from the shower in nothing but a towel slung low around his hips. He found that the whole cabin was dark except for fairy lights around the French doors. Zayn was sitting in the living room , his face lit up by his phone, but as Harry leant against the doorframe, the light clicked off.  
“Anybody told you how fit you are, Styles?”  
“All the time, but I like it best when I hear it from you.” Harry replied cheekily before vanishing into the bedroom.  
Zayn groaned in frustration before following him down the hallway.

When he entered, Harry had swapped the towel for some underwear and trousers and was standing eating chocolates from a box.  
“Really, Harry? Chocolates? And why did you even bother putting clothes on?”  
“Because I know you like to take them off me.” Harry replied flirtatiously. “Want some?” he asked, offering the chocolate box.  
Zayn went to take one, but Harry said “No hands.” as he selected one and held it out. Zayn gently took it, chewed and swallowed, not breaking eye contact. Then he wrapped his arms around Harry and kissed him, the mingled flavours of mint, nicotine and chocolate on his tongue. It was so good that Harry nearly gave in, but he pulled himself together for one last taunt.

He started to pull away, intending to make Zayn watch him eat the chocolates but Zayn growled, “Stop. Fucking. TEASING, Styles.” and pushed him onto the bed. Zayn kissed Harry’s neck, nibbling and sucking so a bruise would be sure to show. Harry knew that teasing Zayn was so worth it, even though it was hard for Harry to act cool when in fact he was so close to giving in. But teasing Zayn turned him on, a lot, and an impatient Zayn was an even hotter one.  
Then all thoughts disappeared from Harry’s mind except how fucking great it felt to have Zayn’s perfect body pressed onto his own, and Harry lost himself in the feel of Zayn’s hands and lips and tongue, finding new ways to make each other tremble and moan.


	2. Part Two

The next morning, Zayn woke up feeling like he was in the best mood he’d ever been in. Surely it’s not normal to feel this cheerful so early in the day? he thought to himself. He knew just what was making him so happy though. He was exactly where he liked best to wake up: wrapped around Harry, toasty warm thanks to the thick quilts piled over them. Outside the French doors, Zayn could see that a thick frost had settled overnight, covering the patio and garden, making everything glitter in the weak winter sun.  
Looking at Harry’s sleeping face, it suddenly hit Zayn just how strange it was that Harry was here in his arms. A couple of months ago, he’d been pushing his feelings down and pretending everything was normal, but now they were in a completely new situation - their relationship had come so much further than the close friendship they’re previously shared. And now, they didn’t even have to hide it from Liam, Louis, Niall or Harry’s family. It was lovely to think that there were people in front of whom he could show Harry off and say, Look, he’s all mine.

Observing the sleeping boy in his arms, Zayn realised how rarely he was able to just look at Harry. He knew every curve of his face and every freckle on his skin by heart - that’s what came of drawing him so much - but it wasn’t often that he could simply observe his perfect features. If Harry knew Zayn was watching him, he’d usually make a face or start chatting, and he never got to watch Harry sleep because he was always just as exhausted and usually fell asleep first.  
This was one of the first times he could truly just let himself drink in every flawless feature of Harry’s without being interrupted. Zayn let his eyes roam over the sleep-tousled, yet silky hair that always managed to sit in perfect curls. The smooth, soft cheeks and forehead. The impish chin, strong jaw and those adorable dimples. The delicate, paper-thin skin that he knew covered such gorgeous green eyes. The long eyelashes, the slight flush in his cheeks and the mole on his neck. Zayn was beginning to think he wouldn’t mind just staring at Harry forever, when the other boy shifted slightly and spoke without opening his eyes. His voice was husky.  
“Zayn, I can’t sleep if you’re staring at me.”  
“How can you tell?” Zayn asked, mystified.  
“I just know. Now if you’re not going to sleep, would you mind getting me a cup of tea?” Harry asked, yawning.  
“Depends what you’re offering in return.” Zayn joked. Harry hit him with a pillow before rolling over and curling back up, but he said sleepily, “Whatever you want, babe.”  
Zayn laughed. “I’m having some pretty dirty thoughts now you’ve said that, Styles.”  
“Piss off and put the kettle on.” came the grumbled reply.

Zayn clambered out of the massive bed, wincing at the cold air after being cocooned in his and Harry’s body heat under the blankets. His feet immediately felt frostbitten, but he padded through to the little kitchen anyway, flicking the kettle on before grabbing a hoody that lay discarded on the sofa.  
A few minutes later, he carried two steaming mugs of tea back to the bedroom, only to find that Harry had gone back to sleep. Zayn set the mugs down and crawled back under the covers, delighting in waking Harry with an ice-cold hand on his shoulder.

The two of them drank their tea propped up against the pillows in comfortable silence. Harry loved these moments with Zayn, when they could just enjoy each others’ company without even saying a word, yet he could almost feel the love and caring radiating out from Zayn to him. Every time, it hit him how lucky he was, and he saved those moments to look back on if he felt stressed, upset or irritated. The memory of Zayn’s calm, gentle smile was all it took to relax him.  
After a while, Zayn spoke. “What do you want to do today?”  
“I don’t mind. But there’s a lovely walk nearby, about an hour-long loop, if you’re up for it?”  
“Whatever you want.” Zayn replied, pressing his lips to Harry’s temple before sliding out of bed and heading for the shower.

An hour later, the two of them were walking hand in hand along a wide path lined by bare beech and oak trees and bordered by open fields. Each step crunched a dark green print into the frosty grass. Zayn and Harry were both bundled up in coats, scarves, gloves and beanies and their breath made tiny puffs of mist that hung in the air. They walked in relaxed silence, both enjoying the thrill of holding hands in public - even though there was no-one around to see it.  
As they reached the top of the hill, Harry pulled Zayn over to a bench set under a huge old oak tree, standing at the highest point for miles. They sat down, legs pressed together and fingers still entwined, resting on Harry’s thigh.  
“Pretty good view from up here.” Zayn noted, carefully observing the countryside spread out in front of them and the smoke columns rising lazily from far-off houses so he could draw it later.  
“Yeah, if you look there, you can see my family’s place.” Harry said, pointing.  
“It’s a lovely path.”  
“Remember that interview where we were asked what we’d show a girlfriend in our hometown? And I said I’d take her on a walk and Louis took the piss out of me.”  
“That was this walk, was it?” Zayn asked and Harry nodded, smiling shyly. “I guess I’m the new girlfriend then.”  
Harry laughed. “As long as I’m your boyfriend, I don’t care what you call yourself.”  
Zayn rested his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Your family took things well yesterday.”  
“Yeah. Better than I’d dared to hope actually.” Harry replied.  
A couple of minutes passed in comfortable silence as they both breathed in the crisp, clear air and filled their lungs with it, before Zayn spoke again.  
“I’m a bit worried about tomorrow.”  
Harry tucked a finger under Zayn’s chin and gently turned his face to look at him.  
“Your family will be fine, seriously. Remember, you told me how well they took it when your cousin came out with her girlfriend. And they will love you no matter what, Zayn, I promise.”  
Staring into Harry’s eyes, Zayn always felt safe and comfortable. He knew he could trust Harry when he said things would be ok.  
“Alright.” Zayn said with a kiss on Harry’s temple, which Harry returned on the lips before resting their foreheads together. As Harry spoke, his breath warmed Zayn’s face with a faint scent of Terry’s chocolate orange.  
“When did you realise that the way you feel about me was different to the way you feel about the other lads?”  
For a moment, Zayn’s focus slid off into the distance as he tried to remember.  
“I’m not really sure. Ever since I met you, I’d admired you and I think it sort of grew from there. I always enjoyed your company the most and like, I thought you were good-looking. But I can’t say when I realised that I personally found you attractive in more than like, a man-crush way. I guess the moment I first kind of acknowledged that I’d prefer to be your boyfriend than your friend was like, probably after we first kissed. That morning when I woke up with you in my arms, it felt so right… I couldn’t pretend to myself that it wasn’t what I wanted.”  
The grin on Harry’s face and the way he bit his lip to hide it was adorable.  
“What about you?” Zayn asked.  
“It was quite a lot earlier than that.” Harry slowly began. “I found that I would feel funny at your touch and I would like, find myself staring at you. I would deliberately manipulate things so I could sit next to you or rehearse with you or whatever. This was like, probably just at the end of the X-Factor Tour. There was one night after a show when we were talking, I can’t even remember what about but we were cuddled up on a sofa and I almost kissed you, I had to leave because the urge was so strong. So it was pretty obvious to me I felt more than friendship towards you by then. I already knew that I liked guys as well, so I didn’t have to struggle through all that shit. But it was torture being around you all the time, such close friends but not being able to have what I really wanted. But yeah, I guess that night we got drunk was when things changed. We started something new. But it’s something very beautiful too. And I’ll never go back. This is what I’ve wanted for a long time. I’m so lucky to have you, Zayn.”  
Zayn didn’t know how to tell Harry how he felt in that moment. He couldn’t express the joy that he felt like his heart was going to burst with, it was too difficult to find the right words. No-one had ever said anything so beautiful to him. So he took the simplest way, and summed it all up in three words.  
“I love you.”  
Harry looked deep into Zayn’s eyes before glancing down just for a second at his perfectly shaped mouth. As their lips met, Zayn could feel Harry smile in the kiss. He pulled back and whispered “I love you too” before he kissed Zayn again.

The next day, Zayn drove Harry up to his parent’s house. It was enormous and in a nicer part of Bradford to where he’d grown up. Zayn had insisted on buying it for his family, and due to the large number of bedrooms and the big garden, the Maliks regularly hosted family reunions, birthday parties and generally any celebration. Luckily, Zayn’s mum loved being the host and cooking up a good feed for everyone. It would be no different this Christmas. Harry was only staying until Christmas Eve though, and would be heading to his Dad’s for Christmas Day.  
Most of the extended family wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow, so Harry and Zayn had the chance to come out just to Zayn’s parents and sisters privately before announcing it to everyone else over lunch on Christmas Eve.  
Zayn was not at all worried about the reception he’d get from the extended family. When his cousin Katya had introduced her girlfriend with an, “Oh yeah, I’m lesbian by the way.” no-one had batted an eyelash. Zayn also knew his Mum and sisters would be supportive, especially because they all adored Harry. He was a little bit concerned about what his Dad would think though. Zayn didn’t want him to be angry, or worse, disappointed. As they drover, Harry looked over and seemed to read Zayn’s mind, as always. He put a hand on Zayn’s knee and said, “It’s going to be fine, I promise.”  
Zayn wasn’t sure why, but just by being there, Harry made him feel calmer, so when Harry reassured him it felt like everything had to be fine.  
As they sped along the motorway towards Bradford, the boys discussed their plans for the rest of their break. On the 27th, they had a big meeting that would last almost all day, to finalise the new set list, background film and costumes to go along with the release of their third album. It had a second disk with ten of the covers they’d done on their first tour and from The X Factor, and the fans were going crazy for it.  
Harry personally thought this meeting would be the ideal time to tell everyone about him and Zayn. Everyone involved in any way with making the album, publicity and the tour would be there, from the band to their make-up ladies, from graphic designers to Simon, stylists to security. It would be terrifying, but Harry thought it was a good idea to kill that many birds with a single stone. Still, he wouldn’t bring it up to Zayn if things didn’t go well with his family – the last thing he wanted was for Zayn to feel pressured into something he wasn’t comfortable with. Harry had a sense though that things would go well today.  
As for his own extended family, Harry had decided that, seeing as they were going to be in the U.K. for his birthday in February, he’d throw a massive party, invite all his friends and relatives and announce it then. 

When Zayn and Harry finally arrived outside the Maliks’ big, Tudor-style home, Zayn’s family welcomed him as if he’d been gone for two months rather than two days, and they were equally pleased to see Harry.  
As soon as the they were all settled in the living room with cups of tea, Zayn surprised Harry by taking his hand. Harry knew their family liked to take the straight-up approach and that they never bothered beating around the bush, yet Zayn was still being bravely open. Harry also knew that it hadn’t escaped anyone’s notice.  
Zayn smiled over at him, and Harry wondered how he could be so calm. It wasn’t even Harry’s family and yet he had the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that by now he was becoming quite familiar with.  
As Zayn began speaking, Harry noted there was in fact a slight wobble in his voice and his hand, which had become clammy, was holding Harry’s slightly tighter than necessary. So, he wasn’t as relaxed as he seemed then. A little bit of the insecurity he’d voiced before was showing, yet Zayn courageously said what he needed to say.  
“Mum, Dad, and you three, my lovely sisters. I guess I have a sort of announcement to make. I realised recently that, like, none of my relationships ever work out and that the reason for that is because I was looking in the wrong place for love. I’ve realised that, like, no woman in the world will ever be the right one for me, because, well, I don’t even like women. I like guys, and as you have probably guessed, um, Harry in particular.”  
As he’d spoken, Zayn had been looking at Harry for support but now he looked around to gage his family’s reaction. To his surprise, all of them, including his dad, were smiling. Or was it more of a smirk?  
Feeling self-conscious, Zayn asked, “Are you laughing at me?”  
“No, honey,” his mum replied, “It’s just cute that you have made a big speech to tell us something we kind of already knew.”  
“Wait, what? You knew about me and Harry? How?”  
“Well, no, not that, but that became pretty clear as soon as you two were holding hands.” She replied, smiling at the way Zayn was getting flustered.  
“So you’re saying you all knew I’m gay?” Zayn asked incredulously, “How? I only realised a couple of months ago myself!”  
“Well, we weren’t sure.” His dad said, and his older sister Waliyha cut in, saying, “I was sure. I called it, like, a year ago.”  
Zayn had not been expecting this kind of a reception at all.  
“So… this is cool with you?” he asked, still processing their responses.  
“Of course!” they all chorused, and his younger sisters jinxed each other before vanishing to read the magazines he had bought them when he and Harry had stopped for petrol.  
Zayn felt incredibly relieved. Everyone had just accepted him, and it had been way easier than he’d thought it would to say it. It helped that Harry was there to give him the strength he needed, but it had still been a nice surprise for it to go so smoothly.  
He had a lot of questions, for example Is it really that obvious that I’m gay? But the long conversation he knew would follow didn’t matter, he’d always be happy with Harry by his side.

 

That evening, Harry and Zayn had gone up to their room quite early under the pretence of being tired and needing a nap after their massive meal, but in fact, the boys planned to use the time to wrap Christmas presents.  
The wrapping pretty quickly deteriorated into Harry wrapping and Zayn cursing as he got more and more tangled in Sellotape. He had a knack of messing up anything like that, from plasters to parcel tape, you name it and Zayn would get it stuck to itself and probably himself too. As he swore under his breath, Harry smiled. It was cute when Zayn got irritated, and his sulky face was ridiculously attractive, what with his pouty lips and the muscle clenching in his jaw.  
Harry put the finishing touches on a present for his step-brother and stood up, saying, “Here, let me help you with that.”  
Zayn stood still and allowed Harry’s careful hands to cut and peel the Sellotape off him. Harry tugged the final piece from Zayn’s wrist and he yelped as hairs were violently ripped from his skin. He stepped backwards and tripped on a wheelie chair. As he fell, he grabbed Harry for support, but caught him off-balance and the two of them toppled to the ground in a pile, Harry on top, both laughing at the ridiculous situation.  
Harry pushed himself up so he was hovering just over Zayn, whose grin quickly faded as his focus flickered between Harry’s bright green eyes and his full lips. Shifting so he was kneeling outside of Zayn’s thighs, Harry leant on one hand next to Zayn’s head while he used the other to pull up the bottom of Zayn’s t-shirt and run his fingers lightly over his toned chest and stomach. Zayn pushed himself up on his elbows so their faces were just an inch apart and Harry’s hand slipped up his back. Just when Zayn thought he couldn’t stand it any more, Harry finally leant forward and closed the space between their lips. It began slowly and softly, and even when Harry let Zayn’s tongue in, it was still a kiss more of love than lust. They lost track of time as the feeling erased everything except each other, so when someone opened the door, they both got the fright of their lives.  
They turned, still in a very compromising position, to see Zayn’s older sister Waliyha smirking at them.  
“Piss off.” Zayn huffed, irritated, but she only laughed.  
“Mum said to tell you two that The Grinch is on in ten if you want to watch.” She said, then winked and closed the door again. Harry briefly pressed his lips softly to Zayn’s, then stood up and offered him a hand.  
When they traipsed downstairs, presents in their arms to put under the tress, everyone was already assembled in the living room, but one sofa had been left empty for them. They sat down side by side as the last of the adverts played, but when Zayn reached over to grab Harry’s hand, but then pulled back at the last minute, his mum spoke up.  
“Oh, go on and cuddle if you want to, I think it’s sweet.”  
Zayn glanced over at his dad, who didn’t seem bothered, so he stretched out along the back of the sofa with his head on the armrest. Harry snuggled up to his front and Zayn pressed a light kiss onto the top of his head before letting Harry rest it on his chest. They focused on the T.V. as the film began, so they didn’t notice Zayn’s mum taking a photo on her phone until after it made a shutter noise. Zayn complained but she wouldn’t let them see it, and she wouldn’t delete it either, much to his irritation.

The next morning, the two of them woke in each other’s arms again. Even though they were in the attic room which had two double beds in it, one of them just had their bags and guitars dumped on it.  
Harry woke first and waited patiently for Zayn to leave his dreams of his own accord. He liked watching Zayn sleep anyway. Finally, Zayn’s eyes fluttered open from where they’d been resting, his long eyelashes almost brushing his cheekbones.  
“Morning.” Harry said, chuckling at the way Zayn looked so confused first thing in the morning. Zayn shifted closer to Harry.  
“Hey.” He replied simply, loving the feel of Harry’s rock-hard torso pressed up to his back. But then the warmth and softness of Harry’s skin was abruptly replaced by a blast of icy air as Harry slipped out of the bed. Zayn groaned and tried to find the warm part of the sheets that Harry had been lying in, as the door clicked, but instead of hearing Harry’s footsteps on the stairs, a weight climbed back in beside him.  
“Don’t touch me, you’re cold.” Zayn grumbled and in response, Harry pressed himself into Zayn’s warm back, laughing.  
Zayn gasped and leaped up. “Fuck you!” he whispered viciously, keeping his voice down as he scoured the room for a jumper because the rest of the house was still asleep. Harry only grinned insolently and patted the bed next to him.  
“If you come back here, I’ll make it up to you.”  
“Why the hell did you even get up in the first place?” Zayn said irritably.  
“I was checking the door was locked.” Harry said cheekily. “Now come here.”  
Zayn narrowed his eyes but lust won over pride and he climbed back in between the sheets.  
As Harry wrapped his arms around Zayn’s waist, Zayn asked, “So, how exactly are you going to make it up to me?”  
Harry smirked and began to kiss Zayn’s neck as he ran a hand down Zayn’s chest, making him shiver. Harry’s hand travelled down further over Zayn’s stomach, then teased along the band of his underwear, before slipping inside, causing Zayn to have to bury his moans in the pillow.  
An hour later, the boys finally appeared in the kitchen, showered and dressed but both starving hungry. Doniya was already cooking fried eggs and sausages for the girls so Zayn and Harry stole what didn’t get served up and added some toast and a cup of tea each. They went through to the lounge and ate it while watching Q.I. which was playing on T.V. Suddenly Harry had a thought.  
“Oh shit, it’s Christmas Eve.”  
Zayn raised an eyebrow and said through a mouthful of food, “Well done, Haz, very observant.”  
“No, but you know what else is today?”  
Zayn gulped his mouthful down. “Oh shit, it’s Lou’s birthday! How the heck did we forget that?”  
“Well, we were kind of distracted this morning.” Harry said matter-of-factly, making Zayn blush.  
“Finish your breakfast and we’ll call him.” Harry said and Zayn gulped down the last of it and ran upstairs to get his phone.  
When he got back to the kitchen, he found Harry washing up everyone’s plates and the frying pan.  
“You don’t have to do that!” Zayn said, standing behind Harry and wrapping his arms around him.  
“It’s fine.” Harry replied, leaning back into Zayn so he could see him over his shoulder. “Anyway, it’s a habit after living with Louis for so long. You know what he’s like. I’m convinced he’s actually fooled himself into thinking he’s actually allergic to doing any chores.”  
Zayn chuckled and leant in to kiss Harry but a loud “Ew! P.D.A. Gross!” from the breakfast bar reminded them that they weren’t alone, Doniya was still there, finishing her orange juice. They both laughed and Zayn patted Harry’s bum before picking up a tea towel and beginning to dry up.  
A few minutes later, the two of them made their way to the living room and sat by their fire as Zayn punched LOU into his phone and pressed dial, putting it on speaker.  
On the sixth ring, a very sleepy voice answered, “Hello?” and the two of them chorused a cheerful round of Happy Birthday.  
“Ugh, thanks guys, but it’s a bit bloody early” Louis croaked down the line.  
Zayn laughed and Harry said, mock offended, “We are actually doing you a massive favour by waking you up, thank you very much! It’s your birthday! You need to enjoy as much of it as you can!”  
Louis managed a chuckle. “Well, thanks then, I guess. What time is it anyway?”  
Zayn glanced at his watch. “Nine-thirty.” He replied.  
Louis groaned, and then they heard a voice in the background say, “What the hell is going on?”  
“Sorry El, Harry and Zayn called.” Louis said, slightly muffled. They heard a big sigh from her, which made them laugh.  
“You two happy? You woke El up too. Prats.”  
“Oi!” Harry exclaimed.  
“How’s things going with your families and everything?” Louis asked.  
“Pretty good” Harry offered, then Zayn added, “We told Harry’s mum, Robin and Gemma about us, and also my sisters and parents.”  
“How did it go then?”  
“Really well actually.” Zayn answered. “They took it well and it was like, just sort of really easy.”  
“That’s great guys!” Louis said, trying his best to be enthusiastic through his tiredness.  
“Yeah, and then this afternoon we’re telling all of Zayn’s extended family, should be fine but cross your fingers for us.” Harry said.  
“Will do. Alright lads, thanks again for the birthday wishes.”  
“Have a great day, enjoy being 22!” Zayn said and they all said their goodbyes. Then Zayn slipped outside for a smoke and Harry went back up to their room to pack his things before all the relatives started to arrive. However, as he folded his things into his bag, he heard a yell that sounded just like Zayn.  
“Mum, what the hell!”  
Harry jogged downstairs to see Zayn wrestling his mum for her phone.  
“What’s going on?” Harry asked, laughing at the identical looks of intense determination on both their faces.  
“She uploaded that picture of us from last night to twitter and Niall’s gone and retweeted it so now everyone’s seen it.” Zayn growled.  
They carried on struggling with her phone as Harry pulled out his own and found the photo. It brought a grin to his face.  
“That’s not so bad, Zayn, don’t you think it’s kind of cute?”  
“That’s not the point.” Zayn said grumpily.  
“Listen to Harry, honey. It’s cute!” his mum protested.  
Zayn let go of her phone with a sigh as Harry pulled him into a hug. A second later the three of them were laughing about it as Zayn said, “Fine, I guess it can stay up.”

At about eleven-thirty, a constant stream of Zayn’s relatives began to flow through the front door, traipsing mud and snow into the hallway and bringing laughter to every room. Harry had met some of them before, but there were also a lot of introductions that Zayn had to make and before they knew it, it was one o’clock and everyone was piling into the convoy of cars amassed in the driveway and heading to a nearby country pub for lunch. Harry rode in Zayn’s car with his three sisters in the back. Neither of them were saying much, and they both knew why - the two of them felt a little overwhelmed at just how many people they were about to come out to.  
Zayn had previously had a word with his Dad about it, so when everyone had finished their main courses, his Dad made a short speech to say Merry Christmas for tomorrow, that he hopes everyone enjoys their stay and thank you to Zayn who was insisting on paying for everyone and who also had something he wanted to say to everybody. Zayn stood up and with a quick glance, let Harry know he ought to stand as well. They were seated together, and this time Harry was sort of expecting it, but he still felt a rush as Zayn wrapped an arm around his waist, before simply saying, “So you have all met Harry, even if it was just an hour ago, but this time I’d like to introduce him in a different way. I hope you all will welcome him into the family as my boyfriend.”  
There was a tense moment of quiet while Zayn and Harry’s stomachs ties themselves in knots, but then all the relatives cheered and clapped. Looking around, Zayn couldn’t see a single person who didn’t seem genuinely happy for them. Then he noticed that even the people at other tables were applauding them too (despite being squished into about a quarter of the room by the enormous, noisy Malik reservation). It gave him such a lovely feeling that everyone was so accepting, and as he shared a grin with Harry, he knew he’d seen it too. Zayn could never have hoped for such a great reception to his coming out, it was giving him a blissful high and it felt like he and Harry could float on it forever.  
Sadly he was brought down from it a lot sooner than he’d expected. As he and Harry their seats and the dessert was brought out, Harry leant over ad whispered in his ear, “I just realised, there are total strangers here who just witnessed that. There’s a reasonably high chance at least one person here knows who we are. What if someone’s about to go and inform all the tabloids?”  
Eyes wide, Zayn whispered back, “Oh shit, how did we not think of that?”  
Harry’s distraught expression made Zayn pull himself together.  
“Well if that’s going to happen then really, what can we do? It’s not like we can stop them. Maybe it’ll just make things easier for us. No awkward press conference or anything.”  
“But what about our bosses? They’ll be so pissed, it’s not even funny. And the fans? Oh god.” Harry rubbed his face, willing this problem to disappear. He couldn’t handle it.  
“Right, let’s look at it like this: the people at the newspapers are working today for the Boxing Day paper, because no-one works on Christmas Day. So what if we get someone on the phone and organise an interview for breakfast time on Boxing Day? That way, the news will barely be out.” Zayn reasoned.  
“But what if it gets online today? That’s two days before the fans hear anything from us.”  
“We could arrange an interview for today?”  
Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair. Zayn felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see his Mum standing there, looking concerned,  
“Is everything ok?” she said, looking between the two of them. Zayn checked that everyone was absorbed in their food or conversation before turning back and muttering, “We think that some of the people here might know who we are, and that it’s possible they could let the news out that we’re together.”  
His Mum was clearly stumped. “Oh, boys…” she whispered, covering her mouth.  
Then she rubbed both of their shoulders and said worriedly, “Well I suppose you two had better call Modest then.”  
“Yeah…” they both muttered, knowing neither of them wanted to make that call.  
“For now though, you two enjoy the rest of the lunch. We can deal with it once we get home.” She dropped a kiss on both their heads and made her way back to her seat.  
Luckily over two years of being in the spotlight had trained the two of them so that they could easily push their worries to the back of their minds and not let it affect what they were doing, so they genuinely managed to enjoy the festivities until they arrived back at Zayn’s family home. While the kids watched a film in the living room and the adults chatted in the kitchen, Zayn and Harry headed upstairs to the attic room and sat cross-legged and knee to knee on their bed with Zayn’s phone on loudspeaker.  
They were calling Danny, a young guy who was head of P.R. for the band and happened to be gay himself. Zayn and Harry knew he would be sympathetic and would be able to keep calm even though it was sort of an emergency situation. He answered on the third ring, saying, “Zayn! What can I do for you, mate?”  
“Hi Danny. I’ve got Harry hear on speaker too. Well, we’ve got a bit of a situation. You’re not due in a meeting any time soon are you?”  
“No, no, I’m free. Well, I'm busy but I can talk. Everyone’s in today, rushing around to have everything ready for the meeting on the 27th. So what’s the deal?  
Harry answered, “Erm, so basically, me and Zayn are dating.”  
There was silence.  
“Danny?” Zayn asked nervously.  
“Yup, I’m here. Um, ok… wow… right, can’t say I was expecting that.”  
“Yeah, well, the problem is, it’s kind of got out to the public a bit. Potentially.” Harry continued.  
The heard Danny take a deep breath, probably pulling himself together. “Right, ok. Did someone get incriminating photos… holding hands, a kiss or the like?” he said, suddenly businesslike.  
“No!” they said together, then Zayn elaborated, “We came out to my family when we were out for lunch, not thinking it through, and there were strangers there who overheard.”  
“So no photos or videos at all?”  
“I don’t think so. We would have noticed if anyone had their phone or camera out… but we can’t be a hundred percent sure, I suppose.”  
“What exactly happened than?”  
Harry repeated the full story. When he was done, Danny mulled it over for a minute before asking, “So there could be no doubt in anyone’s mind that it was a coming-out sort of situation?”  
“No.” Harry replied, his heart sinking. Zayn grabbed his hand and locked their fingers together.  
“And you say you’re unsure whether anyone actually recognised you?”  
Zayn answered, “No-one obviously seemed to, obviously no-one came up to us and I didn’t see anyone openly staring but there weren’t any youngish girls and anyone else who recognises us acts pretty cool about it usually.”  
“Alright. Look, I’m going tot talk to a few people about this and sort a plan out. You do realise I’ll have to notify Rupert, right?”  
Neither of the boys were very excited about that. Rupert was the CEO of Modest Management and was terrifying.  
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Zayn replied but he was practically shaking. If Rupert so chose, he could destroy both of their careers for life, without lifting a finger.  
“Okay then. Keep your phone handy, I might need to call with some more questions. If not, hopefully I’ll get back to you with a plan pretty soon.”  
“Thanks Danny. We’re really sorry about this.” Said Harry.  
“It’s fine. Shit happens. Talk to you later boys.”  
“Bye!” they chorused and hung up.  
After that, there was nothing they could do while they waited except hold each other, and hope that everything would be okay.

Twenty minutes passed that way until they heard a soft knock on the door. Not bothering to move from where they lay, arms around one another and Harry’s face buried in the crook of Zayn’s neck, Zayn called out, “Come in.”  
Waliyha walked in and sat on the end of the bed. “Mum told me about everything.”  
Zayn sighed. “Yeah… it’s just so frustrating because if we’d, like, actually used our brains, then none of this would have happened.”  
“You never know, it might all come to nothing.” She said, smiling bravely.  
“Yeah, but probably not, if we’re realistic.”  
There was a pause as Waliyha frowned down at her hands. Then she glanced up, smiled cheerfully, and said, “well, if it’s any consolation you two are just about the most gorgeous couple ever. Look at you, snuggling like little lovebirds.”  
“Shut up.” Zayn said but he was biting back a smile and Harry chuckled against his skin.  
“Anyway, everyone’s wondering where you two have gone. So come downstairs, we’ll play with the little cousins for a bit, take your minds off it.”  
They agreed and slowly untangled themselves from one another to rejoin the rest of the family.

About an hour later, Zayn’s phone rang while he was helping two of his cousins make peppermint creams. He quickly wiped his hands on a towel, checked the caller ID, saw it was Danny and excused himself.  
“Hello?” he answered, wandering into the living room in search of Harry.  
“Zayn, it’s Danny.”  
“Yeah, I know. Hang on a sec, I’ve got to find Harry. Sorry about all the noise, we’re at my parents’ and most of my family is here for Christmas.”  
He spotted Harry being tackled by Yasmin and rescued him. They jogged back up to the attic room and resumed their cross-legged position on the bed as Zayn put his phone on speaker.  
“Alright, we’re both here.” Zayn said.  
“Okay, so here’s what’s gone down: Firstly, everyone is pretty unimpressed with you and there are only a handful of us who are sympathetic unfortunately, so you can expect that in the meeting on the 27th you’ll be in some really deep shit.  
“Well, we pretty much were expecting that anyway.” Harry mumbled.  
“Right, well it’s just a heads-up. Now, we’ve sorted out what we’re going to do, but I’m warning you, I don’t think you’ll like it much. Basically, regardless of whether it gets out or not, because it will eventually anyway, after the big meeting the whole band will be doing a press conference about the new album. At the end, you two will announce that you’re a couple and the other lads will show their support, which I assume will be genuine?”  
“Yeah, they’re cool with it.” Zayn answered.  
“Well that’s good, I’m happy for you. So after that you’re going to need to do a couple more interviews to elaborate on it, and just so everyone doesn’t think it’s just a poorly timed April Fool’s joke. But I can keep the press involvement to a minumum for you.”  
“That’s great, thanks man.” Zayn said.  
“No problem. Oh and by the way, Rupert’s in a massive rage, saying that if we have to pay anyone out to keep quiet until the 27th it’s coming out of your pay checks, but I’ve gone over your contracts and there’s nothing in there. He can’t do anything.”  
“Okay, thanks.” Harry said.  
“Alright boys. See you soon. Have a great Christmas.”  
“You too.” They said together and everyone said their goodbyes. Then Zayn hung up.  
He put the phone down and the two boys stared at each other for a moment before Harry pulled Zayn into a massive hug.  
“You know in four days we’re going to be Britain’s newest celebrity gay couple?”  
“Scary, isn’t it?” Zayn muttered into Harry’s soft hair.  
“A bit. But I don’t mind as much as I thought I would though.” Harry replied.  
“Same. I mean, I’m nervous of course, but not terrified… for now anyway.”  
“Me too.” Harry pulled back so he could gently kiss Zayn. Then he got up, saying, “We’d better get back down to the party. We need to tell your Mum and Waliyha anyway.”  
“Yeah, sure.” Zayn replied, and they both left, wondering what would happen in four days from now.

 

The dreaded morning came, rainy and black-skied. Harry and Zayn were at Zayn’s flat. They’d arrived there separately yesterday - Zayn from his parents’ and Harry from his Dad’s where he’d spent Christmas Day. He’d also come out to him, which thankfully he took well, though slightly gruffly. Then they’d both driven to London on Boxing Day and had enjoyed the luxury of a private night together, no fear of anyone overhearing or interrupting, before falling asleep, their bodies entwined as they always liked to be.  
Zayn woke up first and put the kettle on before building a fire in the large fireplace. After a cup of tea, he checked on Harry, who was still fast asleep before jumping in the shower.  
When he got out, Harry had got up and started cooking. Zayn greeted him with a long, slow kiss and then offered to finish making breakfast while Harry showered. Standing at the stove, he tried to push away the sick feeling growing in his chest but it was lodged there. He told himself there was nothing to worry about, but actually there were a lot of things to worry about and his fears chased each other around and around his head in an endless, frustrating pattern.

The meeting that day passed in much the same way. Neither Harry nor Zayn were able to focus on what anyone was talking about because of their nerves. As a slight sign of defiance, and to give reassurance to each other, their hand were locked together from the moment they entered the Modest building. They were lectured over the situation they’d caused, then they ran over a new set list, background video and outfits. Yet Zayn just couldn’t muster any enthusiasm for it and he knew Harry felt the same. The other boys let them know that they understood with a pat on the back or a gentle squeeze of their shoulder, but the five of them didn’t have much to say to one another. Harry confided to Zayn over lunch that he was scared the others were mad at them, but Zayn’s opinion was that their friends were simply nervous on their behalf.

By the time that the press conference was about to start, the two of them were little more than bundle of nerves in nice outfits. Harry had brought his lunch back up on his knees in the bathroom while Zayn shakily rubbed his back. Afterwards, he wiped Harry’s tears away and held him on the cold tiles, his cheek pressed into the famous curls, repeating, “It’ll be okay,” over and over again.  
When they were waiting in the next room, hearing the journalists chatting as they filed into the next room, Zayn wondered vaguely if his own lunch might make a reappearance too. When Danny led them into the room, Louis had to forcefully push Zayn towards the door. They all took their seats at the long table at the front, sipping their water, testing their microphones and trying desperately not to look frightened to death as the last few people took their seats. Harry studiously ignored the massive T.V. cameras aimed at him and focused on calming his breathing. Finally, the room fell silent and glowing red lights indicated that the session had begun.  
Liam, Louis and Niall answered questions about changes to the upcoming tour, accepted congratulations on the success of the new album’s presales, and spoke a little about their personal lives, the three of them having girlfriends that the press never got tired of hearing about. Finally, someone asked, “Zayn and Harry - are either of you in a relationship?”  
Zayn quickly looked between Danny, who nodded in encouragement, and Harry, who was very pale and looked like he might be sick again, so he answered for both of them.  
“Actually, yes. We are both currently seeing someone.”  
The clamour of voices in response to his words nearly deafened him, and Danny had to take control. Once everyone had settled down, Zayn smiled at Harry, who managed a weak grin in return and reached his hand out. Zayn took it and rested it on the table, ignoring the gasps and forcing out the words: “Harry and I are together.”

The rest of the conference was a blur. They answered a couple of questions about their relationship before Danny cut in, saying the time was up, and they all filed out, ignoring the frenzied shouts that followed them. In the next room, Zayn and Harry hung onto each other in an impossibly tight embrace, before the other boys piled on, turning it into a group hug.  
“You two are so brave.” Liam practically squeaked.  
“I’m so proud.” Louis whispered with a massive grin and tears in his eyes.  
“Me too!” Niall yelled, pinching Harry’s cheeks so Harry had to swat his hand away, laughing.  
The five of them broke apart and collapsed onto the couches and armchairs in one side of the room.  
Danny bustled back in, holding a bottle of champagne. He popped to cheers from the boys and poured it out. Once everyone had a glass, he made a quick toast to the whole group, including a few other people from P.R. who’d been hanging around.  
“Here’s to Zayn and Harry, the resident couple in One Direction! And to a very professional and well-handled press conference, even though you were clearly shitting yourselves.”  
They all laughed, slinked their glasses together and took a gulp. Harry whipped his phone out and made a quick tweet, yes it’s true, Zayn and I are together x, before heading outside to call his Mum, as Zayn did the same. Neither of them checked their mentions though. They weren’t quite ready for that yet - but if they had looked, they would have found it flooded with 99% positive messages of love and support.  
When they rejoined the group, Harry pulled Zayn close for another hug and a quick kiss - barely more than a peck, but Niall squealed “Cuuuuute!” and the rest of the room collectively went “Awwww!”  
Harry and Zayn smiled, transfixed in each other’s eyes, until Louis said, “Alright, enough with the eye sex now or it’ll be my turn to throw up.”  
They broke apart, laughing, and cheered for Liam’s suggestion that everyone go out and have dinner together in celebration. They were still a little bit scared about the public reaction, but they knew that as long as they were together, everything would work out just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah it isn't amazingly written but I hope you got lost in it for a bit even if it's basically shit and kind of childish haha  
> Sorry for the Elounor. I used to prefer Zarry before I became a believer in Louis and Harry's real relationship, so I liked Elounor. Don't judge me.


End file.
